A Voice in the Distance
by elodealeaf
Summary: It was never her plan to come back and haunt Rosewood as a ghost, but sometimes things don't always work out the way you want them to. Ghost!Ali. Emison AU.


AN: Apologies if this idea has been done before. I just couldn't get the idea of a ghost Alison out of my head.

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**1. **

She never thought death would be so _boring_. She doesn't have to sleep anymore, so she gets to spend every agonizingly dull moment completely lucid. Which sucks, because she can't exactly talk with anyone and interacting with objects expends too much energy for her to consider taking it up as a hobby. That leaves her with a lot of time to think, which is equally unfortunate because she doesn't remember who she is or how she died.

She has a few vague memories, like opening presents at her Barbie-themed fifth birthday party and receiving a snow globe from her grandmother when she turned thirteen, but nothing that helps her figure out who she is. She remembers the snow globe vividly, but if she tries to remember anything other than the physical aspects of the item, her entire body feels fuzzy and it takes her forever to feel normal again.

She spends most days exploring the town, which is full of quaint shops and restaurants she's never heard of before, but it's all very picturesque and she feels like even if she were alive she'd spend a lot of her time here. She learns very quickly that she's only allowed in certain places—wherever she went during her lifetime, she assumes. It's not like she's come across any ghosts that could tell her otherwise. As far as she can tell, it's just her. For a few months, she's hell-bent on discovering everywhere she'd been when she was still alive, but it's exhausting and for the most part she makes very little progress on the places that could actually give her information about herself.

When the shops close and everyone goes home for the evening, she returns to her gazebo. She feels safe there, which seems rather odd because who knew that a gazebo could be so comforting? It takes her a while to put two and two together, but when she realizes why she feels so connected to the place, it sort of makes sense. And then it really doesn't, because who buries a _body_ under a gazebo?

She tries not to dwell on that subject too much, because it's morbid and depressing and if she starts thinking about it, she won't be able to stop for days. So she finds other ways to entertain herself. She watches the people that inhabit her town, and for a while that's enough. Even though she can't talk with them, she can watch and listen. She learns lots of secrets that way. Most of them are your run-of-the-mill secrets, but some of them are absolutely scandalous. She longs to share the latter ones with someone, because what good is it to have all this knowledge if she can't do anything with it?

Eventually, even the best-kept secrets start to bore her. She starts to mess with people; little things mostly, like turning a page of a book when she's certain nobody's looking, or flipping a switch on and off. She gets a kick out of the confusion she causes, and even though she feels slightly guilty when she accidentally scares a child, she thinks it's well within her rights as a ghost to have fun. She doesn't have enough energy to actually hurt anyone even if she wanted to.

It takes them two years to discover her remains. A family moves onto the property and when they tear down her gazebo they also unearth her body. The feeling is jarring, and for the first time in her life after death, she feels sick to her stomach.

During her funeral, she learns that her name is Alison DiLaurentis. It's a somber affair; there's lots of crying and she just wants to shout that she's there, that everything's okay, but it isn't and she can't. It's a closed-casket funeral, but there are pictures plastered all over the church and to her surprise she finds out that she's prettier than she thought she was. Not that it matters.

She stays by her body long after everyone else has already gone home, mostly because she doesn't know where else to go. Her gazebo is destroyed. She settles against her gravestone, prepared to spend the night mulling over everything she's learned about herself, but the sound of light footsteps approaching distracts her.

She rises to her feet and turns to face the sound. She doesn't know what she's expecting, but it certainly isn't the teary-eyed girl that all but collapses next to her grave. The girl has a bouquet in her hand and once she's collected herself a bit more, she places it next to the other flowers strewn across the fresh dirt.

"Thanks," Alison says, needing to say the words aloud even if the brunette can't hear her.

The girl presses a hand to the engraved letters on her tomb and chokes out a sob. "Oh, Ali."

Alison leans closer, intrigued. She recognizes the girl from her funeral. The brunette had been in the front row along with three other girls. At the time, Alison had been too caught up learning about herself to have a good look at the girl, but now that she does she wonders how the brunette had ever escaped her attention. She aches to reach out and touch the girl, to comfort her. It catches her off guard. She's never sought out physical contact before, and even though she doesn't exactly know the girl _now_, she knows that during her lifetime she must have.

The girl sits next to her grave for a long time. Alison appreciates the company; nobody visited her when she lived under the gazebo. The girl sniffles occasionally, and Alison finds that the desire to comfort her never quite goes away. After a particularly pitiful sniffle, Alison impulsively brushes the tips of her fingers against the girl's upper arm. It doesn't quite work out the way she expects; Alison's fingers go through her arm and the girl shivers violently.

Alison quickly pulls away, horrified. She doesn't try it again.

"Emily!" a voice shouts, and suddenly the girl is scrambling up from her spot on the ground and turning away. Alison wants to chase after her, because she still doesn't know why she's drawn to the girl, but when she tries to catch up, she realizes that she drained all of her energy trying to touch the girl. Each step feels like she's trying to wade through quicksand.

She gives up when she makes it to the edge of the graveyard and the girl is nowhere in sight. _Emily_, she corrects herself. She repeats the name to herself as she makes her way back to her tombstone. She spends the rest of the night and several long days in a bleary haze, but she never regrets trying to touch Emily.

**2.**

Emily doesn't come back to her grave, so Alison takes it upon herself to find the girl again. It's a task that proves nearly impossible. For such a small town, there are certainly a lot of places Emily could be, and Alison is sure quite a few of them are off limits to her. It's such a stupid thing, she thinks bitterly, being limited to where you went in your lifetime.

In the end it's not quite as big a deal as she makes it out to be. It sucks, but at least she's no longer bored. She has a mission now, and even as the hours drag on and she comes up empty handed day after day, she's at least spending her time on something that matters.

When she does find Emily, it's entirely by accident. Alison is at the Brew, tormenting a few of the customers as she takes a much-needed break from her search. Somehow, she feels Emily before she sees her.

A surge of energy rushes through Alison, and she looks up in time to see the girl enter the coffee shop. Emily's wearing a maroon shirt that fits her body so well it distracts Alison, and instead of sliding a man's drink out of his reach, she accidentally pushes it forward and it spills onto his lap.

He yelps and rushes to the bathroom; Alison would feel guilty about it if she weren't so focused on the brunette.

Emily orders her mocha to go, and when she leaves, Alison follows her out of the Brew. Now that she's found Emily, she doesn't want to let her go again. Her body thrums when she's near the girl, and the closer she gets, the stronger she feels. Emily apparently has somewhere to be, because she walks at a brisk pace and Alison has to trot to keep up with her. Alison would be annoyed about it if she weren't grinning ear to ear. She has more energy than she knows what to do with, which is a nice change.

Fallen leaves swirl around Emily's feet. The ones that are unlucky enough to fall under her boots produce a satisfying crunch. Alison pouts. Leaves, just like everything else, pass right through her. It's an unpleasant sensation, so she sends any leaves that come towards her up into the air.

Emily stops abruptly at a crosswalk and Alison just barely manages to step to the side so the brunette won't step on her. "I missed you," Alison says suddenly, because she has. Emily jumps and looks to where Alison is standing. Her brow furrows in confusion, and Alison gapes. Her voice shakes as she asks, "Can you hear me?"

Emily says nothing, just turns her attention back to the street. Alison frowns and tries not to dwell on it too much. The pedestrian light flashes green. Emily crosses the intersection and once again Alison struggles to keep up.

She really should have expected it, but she's still surprised and a bit horrified when Emily digs car keys out of her purse and unlocks a sedan parked a few feet away. There's no way Alison can ride in a car. Even if she could get the car door open, she'd sink through the seat.

"Don't go!" she cries, even though she already knows Emily won't hear her.

Emily gets into her car and shuts the door. If Alison still had a heart, she's sure it would be beating painfully in her chest. As it is, she stands rooted in place as Emily carefully maneuvers out of the spot and drives away. The further away she gets, the more tired Alison feels. She thinks it must be psychological, because there's no way a person she's only ever met twice could affect her so much. It's not like there's a manual that explains all-things-ghost to her, but she's pretty sure she's right.

She already knows she doesn't have enough energy to interact with any objects, so going and pestering people at the Brew is out of the question. She calls it an early night and slinks home to her tombstone. At least the day wasn't a complete waste. Emily has to return to the Brew at some point, right?

She doesn't realize how drained she is until she has to walk all the way back to the cemetery. It isn't too far from downtown; it normally takes her fifteen minutes to get from one place to the other, but she's growing weaker with each step. She needs to get back though, because she can't recharge unless she's by her body. It takes her an hour to get to the gates of her cemetery, and by that point the sun has nearly set. She's limping and exceedingly frustrated with herself. Was it _really_ necessary to fling all of the leaves away from her feet when she was walking with Emily?

She's mumbling under her breath and barely holding it together, but even so it's embarrassing that it takes her so long to realize that she has a visitor. A lone figure is crouched next to her tombstone, gently tracing the letters of her name with her index finger. _Emily._

Alison instantly feels better. This time, she can't deny that there's definitely a correlation between how much energy she has and Emily's presence. Her body lets her recharge, but it would take days for her to feel as well as she does right now.

She hopes Emily hasn't been here for too long without her. Thankfully, it looks like she hasn't; she's still clutching a bouquet—red roses this time—in her hand. Alison frowns a little at the flower choice. Weren't roses supposed to be romantic?

She doesn't get to mull over that thought though, because Emily is crying again and Alison swears her heart aches. "Don't cry," she murmurs. She reaches a hand out, remembers what happened last time, and then sets it back down at her side. "I'm right here."

Emily sets the flowers down and wipes at her cheeks. "I keep hearing your voice, Alison. I told Aria, Spencer and Hanna about it, but they think I'm going insane." The names sound familiar, like she's heard them before. Emily lets out a pained laugh and another tear slides down her cheek. "Maybe I am crazy."

Alison tries not to let it affect her too much, but she does a poor job of it. "You're not crazy," she says, her tone laced with conviction. She bites her lip and leans forward. "Please don't cry."

"Alison?" Emily breathes.

"I'm here," Alison says. Her whole body is shaking. She thought it was a fluke, earlier, when she said something and Emily turned toward her. Now, though, she's not so sure.

Emily doesn't respond. Alison clenches her eyes shut and before she can stop herself, she's blindly reaching out, desperately trying to grab onto some part of Emily. She focuses all of her energy, willing that this time it'll work.

When her fingertips brush the back of Emily's hand, she can't quite believe it. Emily gasps, then laughs. "You're so cold!" Alison pulls back, embarrassed. Emily reaches forward. "That's not what I meant. Please." Emily's hand passes through Alison's arm; Alison shrieks, because it's so warm and it's such an odd feeling now, to be warm.

The heat is addictive; it makes her feel alive. She wants to take it all in, but by this point Emily is shivering violently and it's all Alison's fault. She leans back, bringing her arm out of Emily's reach. "Don't do that," she says. Her tone is harsher than intended and she winces, hoping that Emily didn't hear.

The brunette's posture becomes rigid, and of all the things Alison says, _this _is what Emily hears? Emily presses her lips together in a grim frown and mumbles out an apology that she shouldn't have to give. "I won't touch you again," the brunette promises. It's the last thing Alison wants, but she can't bring herself to say the words aloud. She still isn't used to the feeling of other objects passing through her, and she doesn't want Emily to touch her if it causes the brunette pain. "I need to go," Emily says. Alison wants to protest, but Emily quickly adds, "I can come back tomorrow, after school. Will you be here?"

Alison refocuses her energy and presses her fingers to Emily's wrist and gently squeezes. Emily smiles and it's such a stark contrast to the mood a minute ago that Alison blinks. She lets her touch linger as long as possible, but when she starts to shake from the effort, she has to let go.

"I can't believe this is really happening," Emily breathes. Alison finds herself nodding. She never thought any of this was possible, but here they are. Emily laughs again and says, "Nobody would believe me if I told them about you."

**3.**

Emily comes by the next afternoon, as promised. She doesn't bring flowers with her this time, and Alison is equally disappointed and relieved. Instead, Emily comes with information. Once she's confirmed that Alison is there, she says, "So I did some research last night, on ghosts. All of these things you can do—it shouldn't be possible." Alison rolls her eyes because she's already figured that out and moved past it.

"It's you," Alison explains. "Your energy."

For once, luck is on her side and Emily hears her. Her eyes widen and she flushes. "Oh," she murmurs. There's a long pause when neither know what to say. Eventually, Emily shuffles on her feet and tugs her jacket tighter around her waist.

Alison realizes she must be cold; it's nearing the end of October and while Emily is wearing a jacket, it doesn't seem to keep her warm. Despite this, Emily stays for another hour and even as she's shivering so much Alison can hear her teeth clatter, she promises Alison that she'll return tomorrow.

**4.**

Alison soon comes to expect Emily at 4:45 every day, excluding weekends. On Saturdays and Sundays, Emily spends most of her afternoons with Alison. It's startling in more ways than one. Alison never paid attention to the days of the week before—time moves differently when you're dead, after all—but now that she has a reason to, she notices just how slowly the week goes. Her time with Emily is sacred and even though she doesn't understand their relationship, she doesn't think she's quite ready to, either.

It doesn't take long for Emily to realize that Alison remembers very few things about her life. Alison is wholly unprepared to deal with how devastated she is by the news. When the brunette excuses herself early that night, her voice is shaking and she doesn't even try to hide the tears slipping down her cheeks. The next day, Emily comes with yearbooks that date back to their elementary school years and does her best to fill Alison in on all of the years she doesn't remember.

She's growing stronger each day. She can feel it. Emily points it out one afternoon after Alison is able to pick up a pencil and draw a smiley face on the corner of the math homework Emily had been halfheartedly working on. It's still a shock to her system when Emily leaves for the night; all of her energy evaporates and she feels like she's going through withdrawal until the next time she sees the brunette. In some ways, she's also getting weaker.

Emily doesn't show up one day in late November. Alison waits for the sun to fall behind the naked trees surrounding the graveyard before she begins to worry. It takes her another few hours to come to terms with the fact that Emily isn't coming. She tries not to let it disappoint her, but she's doing a poor job of it. She knew this would happen at some point, she told herself Emily would move on someday. She can't quite believe that today is that someday.

She can still feel Emily; it's a recent development, being able to sense the brunette. Emily must be across town, because Alison can barely feel the brunette's pull on her. It grows stronger as she exists the graveyard, though, and so what if Alison hasn't entirely thought through this plan?

It turns out finding Emily is a lot like playing the hot and cold game. It takes her a while to find the right direction to go in, because with every step she feels further away from Emily. Finally, she steps onto a side street she'd only ever been down twice and whatever ghost sense is helping her find Emily lets her know she's close.

She's never been in this neighborhood since becoming a ghost, but that doesn't surprise her. Even when she'd been so intent on learning more about herself, she'd avoided neighborhoods like the plague. She tried investigating one, once, but it turned into her constantly hitting invisible walls which frustrated her to no end. She figures she's safe here, though; she knows that in her lifetime she was over at Emily's a lot, so it's less likely that she'll run into a barrier if she keeps to the sidewalks. She feels stronger with each step she takes toward Emily. She knows she's reached the brunette's house by the way her fingertips pulse with energy.

The porch light is on, but the rest of the lights are off. For a moment, Alison contemplates turning around; it's late enough that Emily could be asleep, and Alison would hate to wake her up. It's one thing to torment the citizens of Rosewood, but Emily? She draws the line there. Never Emily.

Except a nearby bush is rustling and Alison knows something isn't right. A figure dressed in a black hoodie is peering into the window to the left of the door and before Alison can stop herself, she's rushing forward and shoving the person away. The figure lets out a muffled cry of surprise and runs to the adjacent house. Alison chases after them, but she ends up crashing into a barrier and lands hard on her back. Emily's energy is still surging through her, so she's quick to recover. The person is long gone, though.

She knows that the person hasn't broken into Emily's house, but it doesn't stop her from worrying about the brunette. She reneges on her promise; she can't go back to the cemetery without first making sure Emily is okay. The front door is solid wood and Alison winces as she passes through it. The sensation is as unpleasant as ever, but it's a necessary evil at this point. The staircase is another matter entirely. She's never felt awkward in her ghostly form—she's never had a reason to—but she certainly feels it now. Her feet sink through each step and it's only through sheer force of will that she makes it to the second story of the house.

Emily's room is at the top of the stairs. Alison barely notices the discomfort of stepping through the bedroom door. The brunette is curled on the window seat, a pillow clutched in one hand and her phone in the other. She's looking at something on the screen with a mixture of fear and anger. Alison's stomach churns with the knowledge that Emily is unhappy.

She's so concerned about Emily that she forgets to focus her energy and her feet start to slip through the floorboards. It catches her off guard, and she lets out an embarrassing yelp as she pulls herself back. Emily startles from her spot.

"Who's there?" she asks, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Alison, is that you?"

"Yes," Alison murmurs. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Emily shakes her head and frowns. "No, I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry I didn't come tonight." She leans back against the pillows, and Alison can't help but notice that Emily discretely hides her phone as she does so. She wonders what the brunette was looking at. "Spencer, Aria and Hanna ambushed me before I could get to you. Spencer planned out an entire intervention speech. They want me to stop going to the cemetery." Emily tries to shrug it off, but Alison can tell how much it upset her.

She settles onto the spot next to Emily and places a hand on the brunette's knee. Emily cringes from the cold, but Alison knows from experience that if she takes her hand away Emily will reach toward her and she doesn't think she can mentally handle the warmth that comes with Emily's touch. "What are you going to do?" she asks carefully.

Emily sighs and says, "I don't know. I can try talking to them about you, but I already know that conversation will end with me checking in for an extended stay at Radley Sanitarium." Neither speaks of the alternative. "I'll figure something out," she promises.

Alison presses her lips together. The room falls into an unsettling quiet as Emily picks at the frayed edge of a pillow to avoid looking at Alison. There isn't an easy solution for their problem; even if Alison meets the other girls, there's no guarantee they'll be able to hear her like Emily can.

Eventually, Alison can't bear to look at Emily's defeated form. She glances around the brunette's room instead, because she has a sinking feeling this will be the last time she'll be here. The shelves behind Emily are lined with swimming trophies and pictures. Alison wonders if she's in any of them. Emily shifts and suddenly those pictures are the last thing on her mind. She gasps. Her snow globe.

She means to ask Emily about it, but all that comes out is a choked exclamation of, "My snow globe!"

Emily grabs it and holds it out for Alison to see. "You gave it to me, before you…" She trails off, but a moment later she asks, "Do you want to hold it?"

"Yes."

She focuses all of her energy and reaches for the object. Emily lets go of it as soon as Alison's fingers brush against hers and then she's supporting its weight all by herself. She cradles it between her palms and brings it close so she can study the figures encased in the glass.

She barely moves it up an inch before the globe's dark base turns a bright, flaming orange. The heat is overwhelming. Alison screams and drops the globe. Her fingers are burned and she's never felt so much pain before, but it doesn't matter because suddenly memories are flashing before her eyes. She sees her childhood play out before her eyes. She feels Emily kissing her in the library. She remembers everything. Her murderer's face is forever engrained in her mind and oh, she'll definitely enjoy getting her revenge.

"Ali, you're glowing!"

Emily's voice startles her; it brings her back to the present and she's certainly not prepared for the flood of emotions that pool into her when she meet's Emily's eyes. "The library," she murmurs, still reeling for the overload of memories she's just experienced.

Emily gapes. "You remember?"

Alison nods and then starts to correct herself, but Emily's words finally catch up to her and she glances down. For the first time in years, she can see her body. It's translucent, glowing and barely visible, but there nonetheless. She's wearing the clothes she died in. Alison brings a hand to her face in disbelief. How is this possible?

Emily is still staring open-mouthed at her, and Alison fights back a giddy smile. "You can see me."

Emily nods and then, blushing, says, "You're beautiful." Alison can't stop herself, then. There's so much energy flowing through her body that she doesn't even have to focus; she just leans forward and brushes her lips against Emily's.

_That's why I love you. You're big on happy endings. _

The phrase repeats itself over and over until the words have lost their meaning. She hates that she led Emily on, that she was too afraid to tell her the truth. But there's nothing to be scared of now. No one can hurt her, and she won't let anything happen to Emily.

When she pulls away, she admits what she never could during her lifetime. "I'm in love with you." Emily's face lights up and suddenly everything Alison has gone through to get to this point is worth it. For the first time since she died, she feels happy.

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AN: I'm labeling this as complete for now, but if there's enough interest I'd consider writing a bit more since none of their problems are actually resolved. xD Let me know what you think! And as always, if you'd like to talk/ask questions/prompt me, you can find me on Tumblr as Emisonfan. AU prompts are always appreciated.


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